


Forest of Arcanum

by FortuneFaded2012



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Arthurian legend - Freeform, F/M, Family, Friendship, Romance, Royalty, Sacrifice, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortuneFaded2012/pseuds/FortuneFaded2012
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beside the great Sea of Spera and the Forest of Arcanum is the kingdom of the accomplished King Isaac. After the death of his wife, the king is often fighting in distant wars leaving his two young daughters to the care of his court. Princess Katniss struggles with her lot in life, desiring to be a huntress rather than royalty. But when the ultimate betrayal occurs she finds her life taking a perilous turn toward a dark future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Kingdom of Isaac

The great Sea of Spera stretches farther than any man’s eye can see.  Each day the sun sets on its horizon drenching the shore-line in a golden hue.  The sight of the land in the dying light is breathtaking and it is during such a sunset that the kingdom’s most precious daughter is born.

For on the shores of the sea, rising from the depths of the cliff, there is a fortress of great magnitude ruled by an accomplished king. Revered for his fairness and great strength in battle, King Isaac ruled his kingdom justly.  His Queen, Olivia, was considered the fairest in the land. Her skin was a creamier white than any other woman in the castle’s court. Her hair was softer than the finest gold thread and her blue eyes were jeweled beacons. Yet, it was not for her beauty that the king loved her, because she too was revered by the people.  She was envied for her kindness and intellect. It is said that she was one of the king’s greatest assets during times of great decision and strife.

King Isaac and Queen Olivia ruled the country for a number of years before they were blessed with their first child.  During that May day the King was caught in the Forrest of Arcanum.  Stranded alone without food or water, the King traveled through the Forrest looking for sustenance.  He thought of his wife and the small baby that he was told already lay beside her in their bedchamber.  The infant would not be named until the King made his way home and he scoffed at himself for putting delay to his wife and child. 

Just when the King was becoming increasingly angered by his stupidity for losing himself in the trees, he came upon a small pond with water tubers to eat.  The King knelt beside the water and dredged up the edible plant that’s flowered stalk skimmed the surface.  As the King ate the Katniss roots he thought of his small child, surely receiving her first meal from her mother’s breast.  He smiled to himself as he imagined what the face of his daughter must look like, for he was told only of her dark hair that shown like the wings of a raven.

The King filled his stomach with the tubers before he set out to find the correct trail again.  Now the King was no fool lost in the dark trees, he was rather a very skilled woodsmen. So when he heard the song of a mockingjay he gladly sang a lively tune for the bird in hopes that it would lead him home.  And that it did, straight to the edge of the forrest it flew and the King laughed as he saw it’s black wings fluttering ahead of him. 

Many a woodsmen found himself lost in the very same portion of woods, so the King tried to maintain his dignity as he followed his feathered friend.  He thought to himself that he would name his sweet daughter after the faithful swallow.  With his mind set, the King walked across the wide field that led to his fortress, whistling a tune as he went. When the King entered his bedchamber he immediately went to his wife’s side and kissed her pale smiling face. Bundled in her arms was their daughter. When the king beheld her small round face his heart leapt in his chest.

It was the same feeling that had pinched him when he discovered nourishment. So the King decided to name his daughter Katniss after the plant that had saved him. Young Katniss was a precious child, lively and with attributes from both her parents. She would sing with her father by the fireplace at night and play in the courtyard with her friends all throughout the day. The King always called her Little Mockingjay and she was dearer to him than anything he had ever created before. Yet, the King and his wife wanted multiple children, so they tried again hoping for a son.

As the sun set on the tenth day of June four years later the king’s fair wife gave birth to his second daughter, an even fairer child with hair spun from the gold threads of the sunset.  Though she was not the son he had hoped for, the King was overjoyed that he could witness the birth.  Tearful laughter and smiles were had by all. Then the infant was bundled tightly and placed in the King’s capable arms. The occasion was joyous, yet as the light of the day began to wane beyond the horizon the king noticed that the light was also disappearing from his dear wife’s eyes.

“Olivia? Love can you hear me?” The king’s voice rang desperate throughout his bedchamber as he clutched his wife’s face between his shaking palms. 

Beside the bed his elder daughter watched terrified as the midwife frantically worked to get a pulse from the Queen.  The young girl’s long straight raven hair was braided back from her face.  Her small fist gripped the end of the braid as one of her mother’s maids finally forced the ashen-faced child from the room.  The next few moments were the most important of Katniss’ life.  For in those few moments she became forever bound to care for her younger sister in her mother’s stead, because the Queen slid into death’s waiting arms as if she were merely going to sleep.  Nothing was ever the same again.  


	2. King Isaac's Roundtable

**Chapter 1: King Isaac's Roundtable**

"Dear child, the day hath risen. Thou must rise; come now dear girl, daybreak hath an hour passed."

Portia, the nursemaid who has cared for the princesses since birth, has the most soothing voice that Katniss has ever heard. Thus, it never properly awakens her, but rather causes her to burrow further into her warm linens. This day is no different than any other and young Katniss turns her thin body into the blankets, burying her face in the feather pillow. She moans a soft giggle when her good nurse gently tickles the bare foot that is unprotected by the cocoon of coverings. Portia laces her fingers around the skinny ankle and gives it a hearty shake.

"Princess, thou must ready for the day. Thy schooling awaits. Up, up, up my girl," Portia continues to wiggle the thin little ankle about, jostling the princess in her blankets.

Another giggle fills the bedchamber followed by a loud yawn. The tousled mane of ebony hair surfaces from the depths of the bedding. Emitting another yawn, Katniss unfolds her limbs and dangles them over the side of her four-poster, "Dear nurse, schooling awaits me every morn. It shall never cease."

"Aye, but this day is fresh with good news. Are thou not eager to see thy father?" Portia leans over the bed to pull back the remainder of the bedclothes. She returns to the dressing table, pulling out a small bench for the young maiden to sit upon.

 _Eager to see her father?_ She had not been filled with such an emotion for many moons. For his heart had been driven into sadness that she could not repair. She had all but given up trying, why would she be eager to see him now? The thought bitterly clenches in her heart as Portia smiles over at her, perhaps oblivious to the sullenness and otherwise completely cheerful as she places a flowing cobalt gown on the dressing rack.

The morning sun and sea-breeze filter into the room from the ocean facing windows, catching the princess in the beauty of a new morning. A pit in the bottom of her stomach seems ready to swallow the happiness whole, like a snake bites down a field mouse. Yet, when her nursemaid smiles such a silly smile, she can't help but surrender to it.

Portia beckons her to sit at the dressing table as she takes leave to wake Primrose in the adjoining room. The mirror reflects the smile on Katniss' olive face as she hears the small squealing laugh of her younger sister awakening. Moments later the fair complexioned renewed girl is scurrying into the room.

"Good Morn sister! Look! The boats have gone from the harbor," Primrose excitedly stands at the windows watching the small fishing boats glide about in the wavy sea.

"A day such as this deserves a hearty wind and the brightness of the sun," Primrose sighs happily as she smiles down at the vessels bobbing about beyond the harbor watch tower.

"And what of this day deserves such fine weather?" Katniss asks solemnly.

Primrose turns toward her sister with a most unbecoming frown. "Oh Katniss, must thou spoil a good mood with thy dreary complaints of father's absence. He hath returned, let us rejoice in that."

Katniss feels her face begin to flush with anger. Her father has all but abandoned them these past few months. She has little respect for his blatant senseless fighting. _And for what purpose does he fight? War that is neither driven by need of resources nor defense of the nation cannot be of any actual use._

Before a further argument can ensue Portia bids them both to wash their faces in the large silver basin set beside the fireplace. Katniss splashes the heat that has risen on her cheeks, running a cloth across her face to dry her damp skin.

She knows that her sister has never been quite tainted by the loss of their father, she never really knew the man as he was before their mother died. But it is likely best that her sister not be burdened the way that Katniss' heart is. She finds herself sighing as she watches her fair-haired charge smile at the vast sea beyond. There is nothing in the world that she loves more than her sister and if she must, she will sacrifice her own thoughts and feelings for the betterment of her _little duck_.

Katniss follows Portia's movements in the mirror, watching as the nursemaid returns to her side with an instrument of torture in hand, readying to pull through Katniss' tangled hair. Portia runs the thick toothed ivory comb through her dark hair. It was a gift from her mother many years ago, a token from her home country. The ivory teeth shimmer against the ebony locks. Katniss grimaces when Portia pulls a particularly thick knot into submission.

"Now, now, that doesn't hurt nearly as much as the scratches and bruises thou hast been allowing when ye gallivant through the forest with Gale," Portia admonishes with a smirk.

Katniss suppresses the urge to snap back a remark, rebuffing for the thousandth time that there is only friendship between she and her hunting partner. It will not due to rile herself up again though. She allows Portia to braid her hair. Katniss combs through her sister's buttery curls before she begins to braid as well. The three of them work in a contented silence until Portia decides upon brightening the morning with a tune.

Being of the magical realm, Portia has always entertained her charges with little enchantments and charms. While Katniss works her fingers, plaiting Primrose's mane of unruly curls, Portia enchants a piece of spare parchment into a song-bird. Katniss hums along as the bird sings a fluttering melody. It hovers about them before landing on Primrose's shoulder. She delightedly watches the little paper bird in the reflection of the mirror. Primrose giggles as the bird nestles against her pearly cheek.

"I do hope that we will see Sir Tristan and Sir Finnick when father and his knights arrive," Primrose grins up at Katniss as a ribbon is weaved into her long plait.

A chance to see the jovial pair of knights truly does excite Katniss. She grins back, thinking of recent visits from Sir Finnick du Lac. His adventurous stories have always entertained her, especially those that involved sorcery and daring fights or acts of valor. Primrose has of course been more partial to his tales of the Lady of the Lake, who saved him from a tidal pool. The love of his life, he has since rephrased, she gave him the trident-like sword which has made him famous in the battlefields.

"New adventures await us if they do indeed care to grace us with their presence," Katniss agrees.

"I can hardly wait to hear of Lady Annie, for surely Finnick made leave to pay visit to his love," Primrose notes dreamily.

Katniss frowns, "I care more to hear of the adventures that kept him away for so long."

She can hardly wonder what has become of her dear sister. For she now more resembles the flighty ladies of the court than the girl that enjoys gardens and horses. At least her sister still looks like the young girl that she is, not yet burdened by changes in her own body. The closer Katniss draws toward the age of thirteen the more she is beginning to physically look like a young lady and the change is altogether most repulsing in Katniss' opinion.

"Must I wear that hideous contraption dear nurse?" Katniss begs, eyeing the dress and fittings with distaste.

"Aye, m'lady, the knights will be meeting this evening and then of course ye will be attending the festival," Portia affirms.

"Thou must look the part of Princess, at least for this day." The nurse's smile appears lighter than normal and Katniss wonders if what she sees beyond it is perhaps a touch of sadness.

Katniss sighs as she allows Portia to charm her cobalt dress. She raises her arms up as the garment floats down over her head. The bodice tightly fastens itself around her, accentuating the changes that Katniss so desperately wants to hide. There is nothing she despises more over flighty courtly things than the way that her own body has begun to betray her. Shapely womanly bits do no good in hunting and fighting, or at least at the present time they seem to merely befall her.

"Come my ladies, ye morning meal will have been set out in the King's sitting area," Portia smiles sweetly as she shoos them from their joined chambers, "Hurry now; don't be late for thy schooling."

* * *

After indulging in their morning meal, the princesses make their way to the library where they will meet with the other children of nobility, mostly the children of courtly knights. Cinna, their teacher, was once their mother's advisor and close friend. Katniss has not forgotten the way in which her mother kept him close at hand.

He is an intellectual, a philosopher and as such he teaches them not only reading, writing, and arithmetic but politics and social affairs. Katniss favorite lessons involve the history of her nation and those around it. Of course, there are days when the girls are not allowed at all, it is viewed that the boys are of more value to teach. They will be nobility, politicians, or even knights.

On days such as those, Katniss' feels an angry fire in her belly, ready to burst every time she thinks of her male counterparts as being better than her. _Anything they can do, I can surely do better_ , she thinks.

Katniss and Primrose take their seats beside the looming shelves on the East wall. The large tomes stacked in neat rows beckon to Katniss as she takes out the parchment upon which she wrote her debate on the merits of Herbology.

Cinna is engaged in a lively conversation with Bedivere Mellark, the oldest of Sir Galahad's sons. In only a few short months he, Lucan Mellark, Mordred Snow, and Gale will all be fully engaged in their knight training regimens. To say that the elder princess is jealous of them would be making a gross understatement indeed. This very topic of thought crosses her mind at the moment.

A pair of cool coarse hands settle over Katniss' eyes as she watches her teacher, "Good morn, m'lady would thou be able to play guess at who hath taken thee by surprise?" Primrose giggles beside her and a large smile breaks across her elder sister's face.

She begins to reach for the fingers across her face. "Ah, no dear princess would that not give the secret away? No touching!" Katniss releases her own laugh.

"Give away thy secret mysterious one, but thou arte trying to trick me and I know thy secret well!" She accuses placing her palms back on the chilly marble of her tabletop.

"What hath given it away?" The voice replies. Katniss bites her lip to hold in another laugh, trying to keep her face as neutral as she can. These boys always try to get a rise from her.

"Well good sir, the calluses on thy hands belong to one Gale Hawthorne, but his timbre is much deeper than thine and I am quite familiar with the voices of my friends, so I must wager that thy voice belongs to none other than the youngest Mellark son. Ye both are committing trickery in a joint venture, tsk, tsk," Katniss explains.

The boys laugh and Gale's cool hands slide away from their perch upon Katniss' eyes, "Thy quick wit does not cease to amaze, Catnip."

For all the dreary things that involve living within the walls of Gravitas, there are numerous things that brighten a day. Gale and Peeta are two of them. Fake duels, fanciful games, swimming in the ocean – each day her friends bring excitement and adventure that fills her heart with joy.

The day will come however, when they can no longer play in such a manner. She won't be able to enjoy the company of male friends when her introduction to the court nears. For this very reason, she spends days of relaxation with Margaret Undersee, Sir Josephus Undersee's only child. Madge enjoys peace and quiet, reading, and gardening – all of which Katniss craves at times. Spending days with Madge, who is always proper and evenhanded, often feels to Katniss like preparing herself for the inevitable.

"Ah, thy assignment is complete, how shocking!" Gale jests as he peers down at Katniss' parchment before sitting in the seat before her and placing his own work on his tabletop.

"Don't be a pest, all mine assignments are always completed unlike thine!" Katniss laughs.

"She speaks the truth," Peeta encourages her from his place beside Gale, "She may be a sneaky one at times, but she can't tell a lie, that we know." If his words weren't right, Katniss would protest, but she can't lie to save her own life. Many a time, she ruined their fun when she couldn't keep a secret from Cinna or Portia.

"The lesson of the day shall commence, pass forward thy parchments. Today let us discuss equality," Cinna announces as he bids the older boys to take their seats.

"Primrose, define equality." He takes a piece of chalk into his dark palm pointing at the youngest pupil in his class. Primrose, who had been staring out the window, her face resting on her dainty palm, looks startled at his request. She straightens in her chair, her cheeks tinting pink.

"To be equal in life is to be fair to all. There's also equality in maths when things are the same or level," she explains quickly.

"Good. Let us look further at equality among people," Cinna writes her response quickly on his tablet before eyeing his next target.

"Mordred, speak toward the equality in the kingdom." Mordred Snow rolls his icy blue eyes, sneering, a look that Katniss has seen his father wear several times.

"There is no equality here, thou surely must have noticed. It's obvious that the citizens of the kingdom are not all equal to the court or the knights. We're above them, as we should be. They do the work so that we can make the decisions." Katniss frowns at his opinion.

"This is true, our system is highly imbalanced, but I am seeking the type of equality that refers to basic human rights. Do not all the citizens in our kingdom have basic human rights?"

Mordred is about to answer when a firm knock at the chamber door halts his words. Cinna bids the person to enter. Katniss recognizes the young man immediately as one of the squires that assists the knights. At the age of 21 this young man will either be knighted or become a

soldier in the army.

"Beg your pardon Cinna, the squires are requested to practice their skills for the festivities."

Cinna nods, "They will be down in but a moment, thank you." Cinna runs his chalk across the board, assigning various readings, passages, and math equations. He turns toward them with a flourish, his dark blue cloak billowing behind him before settling over his tunic and pants, impeccably clothed as he always is.

"Although the festival of the knights is upon us, thou will do well to remember your assignments are due next class. Gentleman, take your leave. Ladies, please pack up your things and take the afternoon to yourselves."

Katniss sighs, but of course the boys would get the chance to go practice and prepare for the knights. The job of a squire requires them to be diligent apprentices and assistants so that they may someday earn their knightly honor through valor in battle. She oft dreams of stealing away to join them, but she'd be ousted immediately and the fun would be short lived.

"See you this eve, _Princess_." Peeta grins cheekily before he gathers his things and follows his brothers to the door. "Aye, farewell m'lady, wear something striking." Gale smiles broadly. Katniss huffs haughtily and ignores them quite pointedly. Instead, she makes her way toward Cinna, a thought niggling at the back of her mind.

"Cinna, may I seek some knowledge from thou?"

"Of course, dear one, always seek and thou shalt learn." He smiles softly at her, tucking parchments from the students into his leather satchel.

"My mother, what didst she think of the equality in the kingdom, the kind to which Mordred referred? Thou knew her well, perhaps better than all." Cinna nodded, his dark eyes searching hers in a way that always seemed to unnerve her, as though he could tell what her heart was saddened by at every turn.

"They did not think her a just woman for naught. T'was in every fiber of her being to be fair to all. She bridged the gaps that are so far gaping now. Perhaps, someday thou can do the same and thy kingdom can stand as one?" Katniss is uncertain she has the ability, but is flattered by his encouragement.

"Come, fiery girl, the day is waiting for thou to share it. Go, relax in it," Cinna places a warm hand on hers and guides her toward the door.

"Good day, Cinna." She exhales as she walks toward the rear entrance to the gardens.

* * *

"Princess Katniss," Madge smiles warmly from her perch on the marble bench near the weeping fountain.

"Madge, must I tell you a thousand times to call me by naught but mine name, thou arte my friend!" Katniss sighs as she sits beside her only female companion. The marble of the bench is so cool she can feel it through the layers of her thick gown.

Madge releases her own soft sigh, "Yes, and thou shalt tell me a thousand more times. What if a courtier were to hear me call thou by thy name?"

"Let them, would I not be just as thou, or the tailor, or the butcher if my birth had been to a different family? I am just Katniss."

"I know and I am just Magdalene –" Her words are interrupted by the excited giggles of some older girls in the courtyard across the expansive garden. The castle is abuzz with the preparations for the celebration of the return of the Knights and King. Katniss' father would have arrived home some late hour in the night, but she has yet to see him.

For a few moments they sit silently, listening to the mockingjays in the trees and watching the birds dive for a drink or bath in the fountain. Katniss and Madge spend many a day in quiet companionship watching nature with the sun on their faces. And though days spent adventuring with Peeta and Gale have always been enjoyable, these quiet days are just as wonderful.

"Art thou excited to see Sir Finnick and Sir Tristan?" Madge asks as they watch the older girls run toward the far western entrance to the garden, disappearing behind a row of hedges that lead to a staircase where Katniss oft hides.

Katniss beams, thinking of the two Knights who so oft bring her great tales of their adventures, "Yes, surely they will have new tales to tell."

"Do tell them to me, once thou hast heard!" Madge has always loved the stories that Katniss paints with her words. Daring battles and mysterious magical adventures that Sir Finnick has given her in the past.

"Of course! Lo, behold my nurse. Surely she will beckon me for this or that." Katniss slumps her shoulders as Portia comes into view.

Madge laughs, "Surely, but I shall see you this eve."

"Princess Katniss, come dear girl, the King is seeking thy presence," Portia waves a hand, beckoning her young charge.

"Coming good nurse!" Katniss hollers back in a most unbecoming manner. If ever given the chance to shout in these walls she will take it. Madge laughs once more and waves her friend off.

Katniss runs to her nurse, pulling the long folds of her gown up to free her feet. Portia shakes her head and starts making her way toward the staircase where the older girls had vanished but a few moments earlier. "Come now, thy father wants a word on his balcony before the parade."

Katniss' heart beats like the wings of a mockingjay in her chest, a quick rhythm. She can't identify whether it is one of excitement or worry, but her feelings of earlier frustration with her father would lead her toward worry. Her nerves hardly handled their last meeting so many moons ago. She hurriedly follows her nurse, biting at her bottom lip to stave the nervousness.

Portia smooths Katniss' hair and squeezes both her hands before nodding at the doorman to open her father's chambers. She walks into the expansive rooms alone, making her way toward the balcony where her father has left his large sea-facing doorway open to the salty breeze. She finds him leaning against the balcony's edge, staring toward the ocean expanse before him. His hair is peppered with more white than last she saw him. His face, an unexpressive mask.

"Father?" Katniss' voice is soft even to her own ears. He turns toward her, a brief look of surprise crossing his features.

"Hello darling, mine eyes can hardly believe it. How thou hast grown. Lovely, like thy mother," he praises, opening his arms for her to step into. Katniss folds herself against his hard chest, her cheek pressing into the soft fabric of his silken tunic. Her heart aches anew at the vacant expression she saw in his eyes before embracing him. Will he ever be happy again; it is all she can wonder.

"Whilst thou be home for long, father?" She longs for nothing more than for him to say, _forever_.

"Of course, the war has ended. Why dost thou ask such a silly question?" He pushes her back at arm's length with a half smirk upon his face.

"Tis hard when thou art gone, father." She responds, her voice ever softer, a pink tinge across her cheeks.

"Nonsense dear girl, now come into my chambers, I have important matters to discuss with you about your preparations to be part of the court." Katniss frowns, but follows her father into his room, knowing full well that she won't like what she hears.

* * *

Katniss and Primrose decide to watch the parade of the Knights from a balcony that faces the busy merchant street below. A fair of sorts fills the lively streets, with vendors selling breads and treats, toys and baubles. Primrose excitedly points toward the jesters juggling in the square. Katniss smiles, her eyes combing the crowd for familiar faces. From atop their perch they can see almost everything below.

"Look it's Peeta! Hi Peeta!" Primrose bellows, cupping her hands round her mouth and waving down at the coppery curls of their friend. He laughs and waves as he heads toward one of the vendors with his brothers.

"Hullo up there!" He howls back.

After a short while, the blaring of trumpets and drums announces the commencement of the parade. Men on horseback carrying banners and flags with the colors and emblems of the kingdom lead the troupe, followed by drummers and men playing horns, trumpets, and lutes.

Katniss leans over the balcony, excited to see the soldiers who follow them. Tired, beaten men wave to their families, their faces filled with the joy of seeing home again. The people clap and holler enthusiastically.

The men on foot pave the way for the Knights who enter the gates on horseback, decked in long flowing surcoats over their armor. Each man bearing his family coat of arms across his arms and the emblem of the kingdom on his chest, their heads topped with visored helmets festooned with decorative plumage.

Katniss and Primrose clap with the crowd, exhilarated by the sight of their honorable heroes. "Little duck, let us get to the Great Hall and find Sir Finnick and Sir Tristan!" Katniss pulls her sister away from the edge of the balcony.

"The last one there is a rotten turkey," Primrose giggles running ahead of Katniss, hair spilling from her intricate braids.

The girls rush eagerly to the congregating place where the celebratory feast will take place, laughing and shoving each other like rowdy little boys.

* * *

"Sir Finnick! Sir Finnick!" Primrose calls excitedly, forgetting all courtly etiquette in her haste to jump into his waiting arms.

He spins the young girl happily and presses a quick kiss to the top of her head. They nearly jostle some courtiers in the process. Katniss watches the scene with a smile, a feeling of elation in her chest at seeing the man that she so honorably respects. Were he not so much older, Katniss would see him as one of her dearest closest friends.

"Little one, thou hast surely grown a foot in height!" Sir Finnick exclaims. He steps back to appraise her, smiling widely.

He leans forward with a mischievous grin and a sparkling glint in his sea-green eyes, "Shall ye want tales of adventure this 'eve?"

Primrose nods her head vehemently pulling his larger hands together with her own, imploring him, "What of thy Lady of the Lake? Surely thou hast great tales of her to express!"

"Perhaps my flower, I will tell both, as thy dear sister yearns for those darker harrowing tales, but doth not care for romance." Primrose beams, bouncing on her toes as she grips his arm in excitement. Some passersby smile at their merriment, while others look on distastefully at the noise. He turns toward Katniss ready to tell her something entirely theatrical, but instead pauses to appraise her with wide comical eyes.

"Lo, what vision is this?" Sir Finnick gasps dramatically.

"Princess? Thou hast transformed in mine absence into a _lady_!" Finnick fluffs the fringy lace of the cobalt dress with a humorous look of fascination.

Katniss frowns unbecomingly, scoffing at the mere suggestion that the brave chivalrous knight call her such a bitter word, "I am no more a lady, than Buttercup is a noble stead!"

"Now, now, that mangy beast tis nothing in comparison with thy natural beauty and grace," Sir Finnick smirks, knowing full well that not a single thread of grace exists within every fiber of her being.

"Must thou always taunt and be a pest?" Katniss jibes.

"Must thou always take the bait?" Sir Finnick replies, as cheeky as ever.

The trumpets reveling the impending entrance of the King burst forth. Revelers begin to line the path to the grand staircase of the hall.

"As time is of the essence, here is a token of friendship to put this argument to rest," Sir Finnick reaches into his pocket producing a beautiful braided ring.

"A birdy gifted me the knowledge that thy twelfth birthday didst happen only last month. I would like to bestow upon thou this enchanted ring in honor of mine lady's special occasion," he bows with much fanfare, presenting the exquisite piece of jewelry on his outstretched palm.

Katniss hesitantly reaches for the gift, "A ring of magic? 'Tis true?"

Sir Finnick nods and the look of sincerity on his face causes a skip in Katniss' heart. Her very own bit of magic! What luck! She quickly places the ring on her finger, a smile blossoming across her cheeks.

"A ring that dispels enchantments, to protect in all needs that may arise," he pats her cheek softly, giving her a tender look like that of a proud brother.

"May thy life be guarded by this gift, love. Happy day."

Katniss meets his eyes with worry. For what could cause such emotion in her courageous fellow? Again he pats her cheek before pressing an identical kiss, like that given to her sister, on the top of her head. Sir Finnick turns his back on her and leads them toward the staircase where everyone has nearly finished congregating to welcome her father home. Katniss runs her finger over the new ring, feeling the smooth curves of the braided design and pondering the peculiar behavior of its previous owner.

"Where is Sir Tristan?" Katniss asks, looking about for the Knight in question.

Sir Finnick frowns, and then quickly covers it with a forced smile, "Away on a terrible adventure of course, but we shalt discuss that matter later. Come, the King has arrived." They stand at the foot of the stairs beside the most important of the nobility.

The trumpets blast as her father descends the stone staircase, dressed in his finest fur-lined cloak attached with a richly ornamented broach, a silken tunic and linen waistcoat, trousers, a jeweled leather belt, and leggings. Katniss has never seen her father so richly robed. The King had killed the beast he now wore on his shoulders and the lush fur of the bear has been lined with wool on the opposing side to keep him warm in the dead of winter. His square crown is a familiar ornament, one he has worn since his daughters were very young. Katniss stares at the long broad iron sword and projecting shield he carries, remnants of his recent battles. He looks menacing and in the rigid lines of his face, Katniss cannot see her loving father, as though he has disappeared completely in the mere hours since she has last seen him.

Primrose slips her cool small hand into her sister's and squeezes it, receiving a single squeeze of reassurance in return. Their father comes to stand before them, pressing a kiss to each of their heads. They fall into tandem beside him as he walks to the great table where his throne is flanked by two smaller ones. After they are seated the Knights take their seats at the long banquet tables, followed by their families and the other courtiers. Immediately servants appear carrying large trays of geese, chicken, beef, lamb, salmon, herring, and eel. If that were not enough, all those are followed by trays of cooked potatoes and beets, dried fruits, lush biscuits and loaves of steaming hearty breads. A feast as divine as this hath never occurred in the castle. The look of excitement can clearly be seen on the faces of those surrounding the great table.

The King rises, his hands open to the room, silencing the humming murmur of excited voices, "Let us feast in celebration! The end of the five year war hath come and we are victorious!" Cheers and clapping punctuate the air.

The King raises a jeweled silver goblet of wine toward the Knights that surround him, "To mine Knights of the Roundtable, thy valor knows no bounds." Everyone takes a sip of their drinks, murmuring _here, here_.

He looks down at Katniss and Primrose, "To mine daughters, who hath patiently waited for our return." Katniss fights the grimace that so harshly wants to present itself on her face, instead offering the best smile she can muster.

Finally, the King raises his goblet one last time, "And to all of you who hath supported thy kingdom!"

"Here, Here!" Loud pronouncements abound. Katniss takes a sip of the harsh drink, placing her silver goblet down almost immediately. She never did like the taste of wine.

They eat better than they have ever eaten in the castle and their bellies are full to the brim. Primrose giggles when they see several men loosening their leather belts. Bards tell grand stories of the adventures of the Knights and the valor of the soldiers in battle. People clap excitedly with each daring turn of events.

As the meal begins to be cleared away musical instruments are brought out for a chance to dance and clothe themselves in the merriment of the celebration. Katniss smiles at the uplifting tunes played by the horns, trumpets, bells and drums. She watches as Sir Finnick spins her sister around the floor to the rhythmic tunes and smiles at Gale as he twirls with his own young sister.

"Shalt thou dance this eve?" A merry voice whispers in Katniss' ear, nearly startling her. She looks up to see Peeta standing at the shoulder of her throne.

"Perhaps, but I am content but to watch for now," she smiles half-heartedly.

A look of concern flickers across his blue eyes, "Arte thou well?"

Katniss nods, "Aye, just tired. Father didst instruct me that I shall begin my lessons as a lady of the court."

"Ah, but thou wish it weren't so?" Peeta crosses his arms, glancing over the revelers before them.

"Let us stay children forever then, freeze this moment in time." He smiles at his grand idea.

Katniss reaches for his hand, giving it a hearty squeeze as he looks down at her, "I'll allow it."

* * *

 

"Psst, Catnip! Pssst!" Katniss turns, glancing over her shoulder to see Gale standing behind a tapestry of a bow maiden, beckoning to her.

He is two years older than she and already looks like a man in some ways, taller and broader than Peeta who is only twelve as she is. Yet, he is still young at heart. She smiles, wondering what wickedness he has in mind and hurriedly follows him behind the tapestry. The tapestry covers the entrance to one of the hallways that lead to the chamber where the Knights of the Roundtable meet.

She nearly runs into Peeta in her haste to get behind the tapestry, not realizing that he too is hidden there. He smirks at her, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the long hallway after Gale.

"Whatever dost thou have in mind, Galen?" Katniss asks in her mock motherly voice.

"Why spying on the Knights in their roundtable meeting dear _Princess_." He turns back with a gleeful look in his eyes, which she sees matched in Peeta's fair face. Their wicked smiles shoot a thrill through her heart. She loves when they get the chance to spy on the Knights.

Gale holds a finger against his lips, to indicate silence as they approach the tapestry that leads to the Roundtable chamber. The round table was created by a magician in the time of Katniss' grandfather. It came as a gift with her mother's wedding dowry from the Kingdom of Acricius, her grandfather. The table symbolizes the roundness of the universe and the circle of life. It is a table with no head to squabble over, thus every man is created equal.

"Isaac, Tristan hath gotten into more trouble than ever before," Sir Chaff is explaining as Katniss, Peeta, and Gale kneel against the cold stone floor behind the tapestry.

"What of it, hast thou learned?" The King asks.

"He was to take his charge, Princess Isolde to her betrothed, somewhere along the way he was poisoned or put under a spell and now he hath run off with her," Sir Chaff describes.

"The ramifications hath been a war between her kingdom and the kingdom of the North where Tristan and Isolde are now rumored to be hiding," Sir Galahad, Peeta's father, breaks the news.

"Both are looking toward us, to take a side as the ones truly at fault for Tristan's actions, but surely another war so soon would devastate our resources," Sir Gawain, Gale's father, reasons.

"We must attack before we are targeted though," Sir Coriolanus argues.

"If we attack, we take blame and the fighting shall never cease," Sir Galahad says hesitant, to continue on.

"Think of our families, our kingdom," Sir Gawain's voice is stern, standing his ground. Katniss glances at her friends worriedly. _To start another war so soon? It's genocide_.

Sir Finnick, one of the youngest Knights of the Roundtable finally speaks, "As Knights, we form a family of our own. Tristan is family, we cannot abandon him." Katniss is surprised he would choose war.

"Finnick, dear friend, you are right. We shan't abandon Tristan when he may need us most," the King sighs.

"I will respect those who wish to remain here. Think on it. If thou shalt stand with us then be ready in three day's time. If thou shalt stay, take leave to thine homes and know thy friendship is still counted at this table."

"I shalt stand with you King and volunteer my service in search of Tristan and Isolde," Finnick pledges. Katniss shakes her head, closing her eyes. Peeta pats her shoulder reassuringly.

"Who shall accompany him to find Tristan?" The King queries. Both Peeta and Gale look at each other nervously, likely wondering if their fathers will volunteer.

"I will go," Sir Chaff's booming deep voice resonates in the large chamber.

"It is settled then. Those who shalt fight alongside me will prepare and join me in three day's time, Sir Chaff and Sir Finnick shalt find Tristan, Sir Coriolanus wilt thou stay and watch over mine duties here?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Are we in agreement?" No one says anything and they can't see the Knights beyond the tapestry, but Katniss can imagine them all nodding.

Gale and Peeta pull her away before they are caught eavesdropping. Her limbs are numb and in the pit of her stomach a heavy weighted rock is settling.


End file.
